Game of Thrones: I am Dothraki, not a barbarian

Chapter 130 Roger Bank

Upon hearing that his shares were to be frozen, Thormo felt a sudden wave of dizziness.

Six percentage points!
The wealth and power he spent fifteen years accumulating are about to be frozen!
Even worse, if he can't resolve the Lajalo issue, he will lose these shares forever!
We only managed to get this mission because the Sea King gave the order, and the reward was only one percent!

They thought they could easily acquire Lahalo, but instead they didn't get the shares, and fifteen years of hard work was about to go down the drain!

"Gentlemen," he said, trying to remain calm, "I will resolve this matter. Can the issue of the shares be put on hold for now?"

Besaro sneered, "I hope so. But before that, freeze the six percent stake immediately. Vote."

"Seconded!" all twenty-one watchmen said in unison.

A hint of resentment flashed through Tolmo's mind. All around him were indifferent and gloating faces. No one spoke up for him, and no one voted against him.

Just hours ago, he was a powerful figure in the Iron Treasury, but now he has become a stepping stone for others!

Bellamy picked up the iron cup and waved to him from afar.

"Go, Lord Tormo, this is your last chance to wash away your shame."

After the other key keepers left, only Tormo and Tetsu remained in the council chamber.

Thormo took out a map of the Dothraki Grass Sea, which marked the locations of the various khalasas.

He pointed east of Kohor, near Vis Kadoc in the Saen River basin, and said to Taichu, "We must move on to the next phase."

"I've already spoken with Zhekokao. Go and send him two thousand golden dragons, so he can mobilize the five Kadoc tribes to jointly attack the Karasar of Rahalo."

Zheko was one of the most powerful Khals among the Dothraki, and his name resounded throughout the Grass Sea.

His karas controlled the Saen River basin, a fertile land comparable to the Loen River, and the hooded priests of Kohol and the bearded monks of Norfos offered him gold every year.

The Saen River originates in the Painted Mountains to the south, flows north through the Giz people's cities of Seas and Seris, and empties into the Trembling Sea.

Dzeko has only 20,000 troops, but they are all brave and skilled in battle. In addition, the five tribes of Kadoc have another 30,000 troops, which can overwhelm Lahalo in terms of troop strength.

Thormo continued, "Just to be on the safe side, bring another two thousand golden dragons to ensure the hooded priest sends out the Kohol cavalry."

At dawn the following day, amidst the morning mist, a fast ship silently departed Braavos Purple Harbor, carrying Tycho Nestorth, the debt collector of the Iron Vault.

In the shadows, a figure watched the ship depart, and after confirming its direction, turned and disappeared into the morning mist.

...

Port Lisbon.

Harry Strickland stood at the bow of the ship, gazing at the free city-state known as “Lovely Rhys.”

This is a small town nestled on a reef, surrounded by the stormy, turquoise sea, with palm trees and fruit trees lining the shore, creating a vibrant scene.

The port was bustling with merchants from the nine free city-states and the Far East.

Many of them have distinct Valyrian features, such as blue eyes, platinum blonde curly hair, and smooth, fair skin.

There are three times more slaves than free people here. The slender Reissians obviously disdain physical labor and are always followed by several obsequious slaves who hold umbrellas for their masters, carry bags, or move goods.

As soon as the ship docked, several guards rushed toward Harry and conducted a rather thorough and rude inspection of his luggage, until Harry threw them an oval-shaped gold coin with a beautiful woman on it.

One of the guards took a bite out of the gold coin, then stuffed it into his pocket, and sneered, "You're just a mercenary, aren't you? What, struck it rich lately?"

Harry suppressed his anger and calmly said, "I am a special envoy, and Roger Bank will send someone to pick me up." The guards exchanged glances before reluctantly letting him pass.

A short while later, a Roger Bank employee appeared at the dock, wearing the bank's uniform blue-grey robe. He looked Harry up and down carefully and frowned.

“Mr. Strickland,” the clerk said coldly, “please come with me. The bank has arranged accommodations for you.”

The two walked through the streets of Reese, where crowds thronged and stalls selling perfumes, tapestries, and handicrafts lined the streets, filling the air with a rich floral fragrance.

The staff member deliberately sped up, glancing back every now and then at Harry, who was panting heavily with his luggage, a hint of mockery flashing in his eyes.

"Our perfumes from Ries drive the princesses and noblewomen of the nine city-states mad, and the poisons created by our alchemists can kill the strongest warrior in seconds."

The employee pointed to the roadside with an arrogant expression, as if showing off a treasure to the country folk.

We passed by a luxurious, palace-like building with a long queue at the entrance, mostly made up of well-dressed foreign businessmen.

“What place is that?” he asked.

The employee's lips curled into a disdainful smile, an expression that seemed to say, "You can't afford it either."

"That building is the Perfume Garden, the most famous brothel on the continent of Essos. Ries's bed slaves are priceless, receiving professional training from a young age. Many merchants spend a fortune just to have a night there."

"As if you can afford to go, what's there to be proud of?"

Harry couldn't help but grumble to himself. His clothes were unremarkable, a habit he had developed when he was a mercenary. After all, he was the leader of the Golden Company, and Rahallo had treated him well, so he was quite wealthy.

Just then, the staff member impatiently urged, "Mr. Strickland, please keep up. Lord Roger doesn't have time to wait for you to enjoy the scenery."

"you are annoying?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, pulled out a handful of silver coins, and scattered them on the ground like a shower of petals. "Kid, get my luggage, all this money is yours."

Harry snorted as he watched the employee crawling on the ground like a dog with his backside sticking out, his arrogant attitude completely gone.

"If that old bastard Clinton were still alive, I guarantee he'd give you a good spanking!"

Before long, they arrived at Rogers Bank.

The white marble building was quite impressive, with massive black wooden doors adorned with gold thread carvings and a motto inscribed in gold lettering above the lintel:

"Money is everything."

Two heavily armored infantrymen, armed with shields and longswords, guarded the entrance, vigilantly watching everyone who came in or out.

Rogers Bank was once larger than Braavos Iron Vault.

During the Battle of the Stepstones a century ago, Admiral Sharak of the Rhys captured Viserys, who was then a prince. After the Targaryen dynasty ransomed him, they allowed the Bank of Rogers to establish a branch in King's Landing.

However, ever since Lisanlo Rogers failed to become the Chief Executive of Rees a hundred years ago, Rogers Bank has declined along with him.

However, it still holds a place among the nine free cities.

The staff bowed and led Harry to a luxurious reception room, where drinks and food were readily available.

“Mr. Strickland, this is the highest-class reception room. Please wait here for a moment,” the clerk said, rubbing his hands together and smiling broadly. “I will go and consult Lord Roger immediately.”

(End of this chapter)